


9 to 5

by Bluesmoke (NotSharon)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, trixya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSharon/pseuds/Bluesmoke
Summary: Trixie and Katya pack up their dreams and find themselves in New York City- well at least Trixie does. Katya's parents were dentists, and she went to college in Boston, so she didn't have to move too far. Trixie makes coffee all day with Kim, spending her nights with mugs of red wine, her autoharp, and TLC shows she guilts Kim into watching with her. Katya makes art, selling her work to American magazines so she can stay in her apartment, complete with a fire escape and roommate, Sharon, who loves to have sex with her girlfriend all day long. Katya needs a cup of joe, and happens bumps into the prettiest barista she's ever seen.





	1. It's Just a Cup of Coffee

Trixie was still getting used to this whole barista thing. Living in New York required money and in order to get money she need to work and save, especially if she wanted to play music.

It had been her first day, about twenty minutes into her first shift, apron tied chaotically around her waist, when she’d spilled her first drink, the coffee splattering all over the floor. Her boss, a complicated, slightly-bitchy but endearing woman named Violet, had yelled at her, only because Trixie cried about it, attempting to clean up the mess instead of making another drink.

She was now more equipped, her apron tied less messily, her voice more assertive when calling out names, but naturally, her hair was still frizzy in a ponytail, the blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Trixie still hadn’t given up wearing pink every day, or doing her makeup, drawing long wings on both of her eyes before leaving for work. 

Trixie yawned as she got into the car, pulling the door shut as she situated her bag in the passenger seat. She checked her makeup in the mirror quickly, running her nail beside her lower lip to catch her bleeding lipstick. 

It was half past one when Violet yelled, “Trixie, pick it up!” Over the years, it hadn’t gotten much easier. Trixie found herself being the same sort of clumsy, dopey dork she’d been on her first day, in Violet’s eyes at least.

Trixie looked over her shoulder, sighing at Violet before looking back to the cups in front of her, drying them and lining them up on the counter.

It was around then four, the shop mostly empty when Trixie heard the bell on the door jingle. She appeared from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sorry. What can I get you?” She asked.

The woman in front of her smiled, causing Trixie to notice her teeth, all very white and straight, highlighted by her red lipstick. She was blonde, but blonde blonde, like hollywood blonde. Trixie’s smile faltered lightly around the edges as she studied her face for a moment, noting her bangs and her high cheekbones, the way her hair fell just above her shoulders.

“Just a coffee,” she said carefully, her lips tilting up at the edges, “Oh, and cream please.” 

Trixie noted her accent and smiled, suddenly acutely aware of her own disheveled appearance, her frazzled hair and stained apron. She knew she should have curled her hair better today, not left it by itself in a messy braid, chaotic curls going past her shoulders.

She looked over her shoulder in the back, noticing an occupied Kim, her coworker and roommate. They’d started living together out of necessity years ago, but a friendship had formed, one built around a mutual fascination of Dolly Parton and makeup.

“For here or to go?” Trixie asked, now really wishing that she'd put on a clean apron.

“For here, please,” the woman said. Something about how she looked at her insisted that she could see past Trixie’s skin, and that she was staring right through her. She leaned slightly on the counter, and Trixie was pretty sure that she was smirking at how flustered she was.

“What’s the name?” Trixie asked, feeling her face become red, knowing full well that they were the only people in the shop, and there really wasn’t a need for it.

“Katya,” the woman said. She smiled at her, and Trixie could still hear the way she spoke, snappy and choppy, her name two syllables instead of three, like Trixie would say it. She didn't think English was her first language. 

Katya handed her a five dollar bill, putting the remaining in the tip jar.

“That’ll be right out,” Trixie said, finding a genuine smile on her lips when she looked at this woman. She grinned back, brushing a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear and nodding.

“Thank you,” she said, walking away to sit in a chair by the window, looking out for a moment before beginning to tap away on her phone with her short, red nails. 

Trixie breathed out softly, grateful for the music playing in the background. She looked through the lined cups on the counter over to Katya, noting her dress, black and red, the pattern loud and obtrusive, falling just past her knees, the way she crossed her legs and how she held her phone. She was wearing a necklace made entirely out of cigarettes, and Trixie sighed, running her hand over her hair. She poured the coffee, cream next, finding one of the less-chipped cups to put it in and took a deep breath before deciding to take her hair down, tucking it behind her ears. She brought the coffee over, smiling at this strange woman, putting the coffee down on the table.

Katya looked up, shutting off her phone and stuffing it back in her purse. She smiled at Trixie and her eyebrows quirked up, a crease forming between them.

“You changed your hair,” she said, smiling as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah,” Trixie replied, “It was getting tangled,” she told her. It was getting tangled? How old are you? Five?

“I like it,” Katya said, grinning at her, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair.

“Thank you,” Trixie told her, feeling herself smile at this compliment. Tell her something- like your number maybe?

Katya smiled, “You're welcome.”

“Oh, it’s Trixie,” she said. Trixie breathed in, slapping herself repeatedly in her mind for this. Wow, nice going, Tracy. Here is a pretty woman, a pretty, pretty blonde woman who likes you and now here you are, acting like a pubescent teenager.

“You’re welcome..Trixie,” Katya said, smiling. The way she said her name left the last letter prolonged, letting the name ring on her tongue.

A loud bang and a shatter rang out from the back of the shop and Trixie whipped her head around, turning on her heels to yell out at Kim.

“Kim, are you okay?” She called, walking behind the counter.

Katya watched Trixie rush away, smiling at her apron and her blonde hair, her hips swaying slightly as she moved.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” a distant voice yelled back.

Trixie disappeared into the back and Katya watched her go, smiling as she heard this woman named Kim talk.

“Hey, you never wear your hair like that unless-” She started.

“Shut up, okay Kim?” Katya heard Trixie snap back. 

Katya grinned widely and gulped down her coffee, pulling a pen out of her purse, leaning forward to write on a napkin as shuffling continued from the back of the shop.

“Thanks for the coffee, Trixie. Call me sometime- Katya.” She wrote in her scrawling handwriting, leaving her phone number at the bottom of the paper. 

Katya got up, the skirt of her dress swishing as she left the coffee shop, the bells lightly jingling as the door opened and closed. Outside, she dug around in her purse, pulling out her cigarettes and her lighter. Cupping her hand to block the wind, she lit her cigarette, puffing out smoke before walking past the long line of windows, her hair blowing away from her face in the breeze.

It was that next night, after Trixie had gotten home from dinner with Kim, Fame, and Pearl, when she called Katya, flopped out on her bed, her heels kicked onto the floor, hair floating around her head, her pink dress still on, Trixie held the napkin in her hand, squinting at it in the low light. She yawned as the number rang, feeling a pang in her chest as it continued.

Trixie smiled, letting her wrist rest over her eyes as she heard the click, “Trixie?” a voice called loudly into the receiver, presumably Katya’s. She could hear music in the background, a thumping that signaled she was at some sort of club, and shuffling, the music becoming more distant as Katya walked outside.

“Hey,” Katya breathed out quietly. 

“Hey,” She said back. Trixie swore she could hear her smile. 

“Sorry about the noise. Ginger and Adore wanted to go out tonight. Ginger wanted to find herself a nice looking woman for the weekend,” Katya said. Her voice dropped low, “Mother,” she said, and Trixie listened intently as she spoke, “I’m finding myself surrounded by my tempestuous, platonic lovers again,” she said. 

Katya paused before breaking into a fit of wheezing laughter, the sound broken up by a collection of coughs that followed. 

Trixie grinned, “Is that your conscious talking to you?” She asked.

“This is me, Barbara, I don't know who you've been talking to,” Katya said, her voice suddenly uncannily similar to deep, rough Boston accent.

Trixie cackled out a laugh and ran her hand across her face. She reached over for the makeup wipes beside the bed and pulled one out, rubbing it over her forehead and cheeks, then her eyes, swiping it below her eyelashes. “You're not from around here, are you?” She asked.

Katya exhaled out smoke, pressing her phone to the side of her face. She smiled, her voice somehow softer in Trixie’s ears. 

“No. We moved from Russia when I was a teenager. I guess I never really lost the twang,” Katya said. She grinned to herself, but mostly to a distant Trixie. “What about you? You don't seem like you're from around here either,” she said, breathing quietly.

“I'm from Milwaukee, Wisconsin,” Trixie said softly. 

“Small town?” Katya asked.

“Yes,” Trixie said, huffing out a laugh.

Katya was silent for a moment, listening to the breathing of Trixie on the other end, a faraway smile ghosting her expression.

“What have you been up to this fine evening?” She asked Trixie quietly.

Trixie yawned before speaking, her eyes flicking to look out the window at the dark street. 

“I went to dinner with Kim and Fame and Pearl,” she said slowly, her other arm flopping to rest above her head.

Katya hummed as Trixie spoke and she nodded, as if this woman was next to her, sitting outside a club, their backs up against a brick wall. 

“Ah yes, I remember Kim. She’s the one who uncovered your secret of your deep, sudden, heartbreaking infatuation for me, isn't she?” Katya asked, grinning through the phone.

“Taking your hair out of a braid isn't a sign of heartbreaking infatuation, Katya,”’ Trixie said, laughing as they both spoke.

“Oh, it isn't?” Katya asked incredulously, wiggling her eyebrows at an invisible Trixie beside her.

“No, it isn't. My hair was getting tangled, tangled. That's all. I don't know why you're reading into this so much,” Trixie laughed.

“I am simply reading in between the lines, my кукла,” Katya said, breathing out smoke though her nose. 

Sudden, loud voices came in through Trixie’s end, “Katyaaaaaa why?” and she heard Katya shoo them away, “Go away, Adore. I am talking to a beautiful woman!,” a scraping of footsteps as she got up, walking away from the noises. 

“Do you need to go back inside?” Trixie asked softly, smiling deeply and sniffing as she put a pillow behind her head. 

“No,” Katya said matter of factly. Trixie felt like Katya was smiling too.

Trixie could imagine her walking down the block, her dress swishing as her legs moved, her heels clicking on the concrete. It was colder this time of year, and she could almost see Katya’s face, her cheeks flushed from the temperature, smoke drifting from her mouth as she turned the corner, holding her cigarette between her fingers. She’d have a jacket, one probably as horrible as that dress she’d won, and her bag would be over her shoulder, tapping against her side as she walked. 

“It’s getting late,” Katya said into the phone.

Trixie smiled, closing her eyes for a few seconds, breathing in deep, “Yeah,” she said softly.

“Do you need to sleep?” Katya asked, her voice soft now too, matching Trixie’s.

“No,” Trixie said back, smiling, her chest rising and falling as she breathed. “And even if I wanted to, I can't yet. I’m still in my dress,” she said tiredly. 

Trixie examined her nails, painted pink, starting to chip near the ends.

She heard a gulp through the phone, and then Katya was talking.

“What does it look like?” She asked.

Trixie sighed, looking down at herself. “It’s pink,” she said, “It has some pom poms on it,” she sighed, “It’s not very sensual,” she laughed lightly, her head tilting back.

Katya smiled at Trixie’s laugh, her eyes crinkling around the edges, her crow’s feet more visible. She liked hearing Trixie like this, slightly tired, happy, in a pretty dress that she liked.

Trixie heard different sorts of footsteps and paused, listening to the noises on the other end of the phone. It didn't sound like Katya was walking on concrete anymore.

“What are you doing?” She asked, yawning sleepily as she spoke. 

“I'm walking upstairs,” Katya said, “We have to be quiet, though. Alaska’s sleeping,” she said. 

Trixie was quiet until she heard a click. “Was that your door?” She asked.

“Yes,” Katya said, her voice lower, quieter once she was in her room. She was shuffling around again, reaching for the makeup remover on her dresser.

“What are you doing now?” She asked. Trixie rubbed her eyes and got up, wandering over to her closet to find pajamas. 

“Wiping off my makeup,” Katya told her, smiling distantly.

Trixie grinned tiredly, “You mean your raccoon eyes,” she prompted.

“My eye makeup is artful- fashion forward, even,” Katya insisted, huffing out a laugh as she threw the makeup-covered tissue in the trash. She flopped down on the bed, kicking off her shoes, leaning back into the pillows. 

“You're in bed now?” Trixie asked softly, holding the phone to her ear. She unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor along with her bra. She pulled out a t-shirt, putting the phone on down on the bed for a moment so she could get dressed.

“Yes, рыба,” Katya said, smiling lightly. She rolled on her stomach to unzip her dress, throwing it on the ground.

Trixie got back on her bed, reaching over to get her nail polish. “What does that mean?” She asked softly.

“It means fish, but like small fish,” Katya told her, smiling. “It’s a term of endearment.” Katya grinned and leaned back, still undressed, not caring enough to take off her bra or her socks. 

“Oh. Thank you,” Trixie said quietly. She brushed pink nail polish onto the places where it was chipping, the brush paused as she smiled. “You know, soon, we should actually see each other in person, go on a date, not talk on the phone like prepubescent teenagers,” she laughed.

“What about tomorrow?” Katya asked, smiling into the phone. “I’ll take you to dinner, treat you like a real lady.”

“That sounds perfect,” Trixie said quietly. She was tired, but she wanted to talk to Katya, hear her voices and her wheezing laughter.

“You’re tired,” Katya said, “get some sleep, кукла.”

“What does that mean?” Trixie asked softly, yawning to herself. She could brush her teeth in the morning. She turned out her lamp and got under the blankets, still holding the phone to her ear.

“It means doll, like a child’s doll,” Katya said quietly, staring up at the ceiling. She listened to Trixie’s breathing, how smooth and soft it sounded, like her. 

“Are you objectifying me?” Trixie mumbled, smiling distantly at Katya’s voice. 

Katya laughed lightly, “Get some sleep, Trixie,” she said to her, blinking tiredly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	2. Bathrooms Are Not for Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya and Trixie finally go out on a date, and they might get just a little bit ahed of themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear some feedback! :-)

Trixie woke up early the next morning, something uncommon for her, especially during this time of the year, when the bed was warm, when the floors were cold, and when she could feel the frost through the windows. She rubbed her eyes, feeling her hair behind her, tangled since she hadn’t brushed it before she’d gone to sleep. 

The thought of Katya floated into her mind and she smiled sleepily, still tired, not quite awake. Trixie rolled over in bed, her stomach on the mattress. Her chin over the pillow, she reached for her phone, feeling a warm feeling in her stomach when she saw a message from an unknown number:

‘Good morning, кукла. Let’s meet at Upper Crust at 10. Also, you fell asleep on the phone last night. It was very cute. -Katya’ 

Trixie let herself smile as she read the text. Katya made her feel translucent. Her voice made her smile, her eyes, all annoying and twinkly, made her throat tighten, made her hands fidget by her sides. 

She eventually lugged herself from the safety of her bed, padding to the bathroom, happy that she’d gotten up early enough to make her makeup look nice. 

“Trixie is that you?” A voice called.

Trixie looked over from the mirror, seeing Kim over by their tiny table, eating two slices of toast with jam, inevitably scrolling through Instagram. In all the years Trixie had known her, she’d always eaten the same thing for breakfast. 

“Kim, no one else lives here” Trixie called, smiling as she took out her toothbrush and toothpaste. 

“Well, I’ve never seen you come out of there before nine, so don’t blame me,” Kim said, her slight lisp audible from the bathroom.

Trixie brushed her teeth, hearing some shuffling around the kitchen. “Are you working Saturdays again?” She asked.

“Yeah, all the teenage girls come today, so they need some help at the counter,” Kim said. She grabbed her bag, and Trixie could hear her heels moving. 

Trixie leaned out of the door, her hair frizzy around her head, like a halo. “Well, have a good day, okay?” she said, smiling at her.

Kim nodded, fixing her hair in the mirror by the door. “Are you going on a date today?” She asked.

Trixie leaned over to the sink, “What do you mean?” She held her hair back.

“You really aren’t as quiet as you think you are, Trixie,” Kim laughed, and Trixie could imagine her rolling her eyes. Kim put some lipstick on and rubbed her lips together. 

“Kim, go to work,” Trixie called into the room. She smiled slightly and rinsed her mouth. 

It was far too early to be leaving their little apartment when she was ready, but Trixie didn’t care, and she didn’t want to be late. 

Trixie looked up from her place at the table in the corner when the door jingled. A very cold, very flustered looking Katya closed the door behind her and waved when she saw Trixie. This time, she was wearing a long dress, tights, and black, heeled boots, the soles wooden. They ended just below her knees. The sleeves of her dress came down to her wrists, and Trixie was surprised to see that she didn’t have a larger coat. It was black and a little large for her, the sleeves fringed. Her hair was curled, the curls messy and blunt, looking almost crimped. 

Trixie put her phone down and smiled, straightening out one of the two cups of coffee in front of her. She was wearing white fishnet tights, and an alarmingly bright pink dress that hugged her waist and chest, the neck just low enough to show some appropriate, daytime cleavage. Around the back of her chair she had hung a white, furry jacket. Trixie had found it years ago, glad that it wasn’t real. It had cheap charm, something she admired. She knew she looked good, her eyeliner sharp, her lips lined and colored in pink.

Katya moseyed her way through the chairs, looking a little flushed from the cold. The temperature had given a blush to her cheeks, her hair windswept in a way that inclined Trixie to lean forward on her elbows to get a better view. She really was striking, the red lipstick Trixie had first seen her in still present. Her cheekbones were alarmingly high, and her dark eyeliner opened her eyes up, making the the light color bright and vibrant. 

She sat down with a small thud, grinning at Trixie as she took off her jacket, folding it over the back of her chair. 

“You’re early,” She said. Katya smiled widely at her, and already, Trixie could smell her. She smelled like smoke and rosemary.

“I thought there’d be traffic,” Trixie told her, cupping her hands around the large cup of coffee. She knew she was lying and was pretty sure Katya knew too.

Katya nodded, bumping her foot into Trixie’s shin. She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at her.

“Did you get two cups for yourself?” Katya asked, rubbing her hands together. She liked the way Trixie talked, with her hands, and with her hair, flipping it over one shoulder, then maybe twirling it between her fingers, across her pink nail polish. 

Trixie nodded certainly, “Yeah. I figured, you know, while you’re sitting there all cold I’ll just drink both,” she said. She grinned and pushed the cup over to Katya. Their hands bumped and Trixie made a face, reaching out to hold Katya’s cold hand between her warm ones.

“How long have you been outside?” She asked worriedly,

Katya just laughed and shook her head, beginning to tell a story of the ‘long and treacherous journey to the coffee shop,’ and their voices blended comfortably into those around them, the occasional wheeze from Katya interrupting the hum of those surrounding them. 

“So, you like came to the U.S. when you were a teenager?” Trixie asked. She’d eventually let go of Katya’s hand when she’d deemed it warm enough. She swore this woman was cold blooded in the warmest way possible. Their hands lingered close together on the table.

Katya nodded. “When I was sixteen we moved to Boston. My parents are dentists, they knew they would make more money here,” She said to Trixie. She kept knocking their legs together underneath the table, the tip of her boot brushing Trixie’s shin, a stupid smile on her face. She looked smug and Trixie didn’t like it. 

“My mother wanted to leave but my father wanted to stay. He likes the accents and the seafood,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear, rested her head on her palm, her eyes, half-lidded as she looked at Trixie, glinting.

Trixie smiled, “Did you like moving here?” She asked, running her thumb along the tip of her cup. She could feel Katya’s foot, pressed against the side of her leg.

Katya’s eyes crinkled up and she shook her head. “Does anyone?” She asked, grinning, her eyes following Trixie’s finger momentarily before snapping back to her face.

“What about you, Trixie?” She asked, leaning forward, her accent prevalent once again when she said her name, ringing out the first syllable. “How did you find yourself here? When did you move to New York City?” She asked. Katya liked this dress, she did very much. Her mouth felt dry.

Trixie liked how Katya said things- completely and perhaps a little too fast, always like she was about to run out of time. She felt like she was running out of time too. 

She sighed, “So my mom gave me guitar lessons, when I was little and everything. I used to make up these stupid songs in my room, and like write them down. I was obsessed with Dolly Parton when I was a teenager, and I guess I still am, maybe a little too much,” she said, waving her hand around. “So I got good…” she kept pausing, looking at the curve of Katya’s lips, or her fingers, long and slender, tracing shapes on the table, “...because there’s nothing else to do and I...I moved away when I graduated,” she said, breathing in. “I want…” Trixie’s eyes dropped to Katya’s lips when her boot touched her leg, “...to make music. Yeah, I want to make music,” she said.

Katya nodded intently, and Trixie could sense a type of humor to all of this. She bumped her leg back against Katya’s and was surprised to see that she swallowed. She kept almost smirking, the ends of her red lips quirking up into a smug smile. She kept glancing at Trixie, just for a few seconds. She would watch her hands or her hair, watching and listening to her speak, admirning her nails and her arms, soft, so similar to her. 

It was when Katya squeezed Trixie’s knee with her cold fingers, causing her to jump, and make a noise, a noise, when Trixie got up, pushing her chair away. A determined glare now present on her face, she grabbed Katya’s wrist, almost yanking her from her chair, dragging her to the bathroom. Katya was laughing, her skirt swishing, Trixie’s heels tapping quietly on the floor. Katya laughed the whole way, and Trixie tried to hide it, but she was too. Trixie didn’t think it would have stopped her if the bathroom was occupied, but this restroom only had one room, and she locked it, not bothering with the light. 

“What the actual fuck?” Trixie asked softly. Katya could feel her breath, close to hers and warm. She liked Trixie when she was mad, or at least fake mad. 

Katya leaned in, glad she was a little taller than Trixie, happy to be this close, satisfied with the fact that they were alone in a dark room. “What are you saying?” She mumbled quietly.

Trixie felt like they were on the phone again. She could hear Katya’s smile, but this time, she could feel her too. Katya’s fingers touched her hips gently, tugging her closer against the wall, and she could smell her again. 

“Katya,” Trixie said softly, she sounded annoyed. She was pressed against Katya, smiling. Before she could respond, Trixie was pushing her back, leaning up to kiss her. 

Katya could feel her smiling, and she was too, laughing lightly as she got closer. She pulled at Trixie’s sides, feeling her waist and smelling her hair, scented of flowers and probably everything else sweet. 

Trixie let out a gasp, feeling Katya’s hands, sliding down to squeeze her ass. She hummed into Trixie’s mouth, knowing their lipstick was smearing, not caring enough to stop or think about it too much. 

Katya was making her way down Trixie’s neck, kissing the soft skin along her collarbone, her hand traveling down below Trixie’s waist when moved back slightly, groaning as she stepped away. Katya could feel her fingertips lingering on her chest. 

“We’ve gotta wait,” Trixie said breathlessly. 

“For what? You’ve already tolerated my smoker’s breath” Katya said, she was smiling. All she could really think about were Trixie’s hips and her mouth and the way her hair smelled.

“To go out, to go, like, out to dinner or something. I need to know what your favorite color is before we hook up in a bathroom,” Trixie told her.

“I don’t have a favorite color,” Katya said. 

Trixie laughed, “That’s not the point,” she told her.

Katya groaned, but she nodded, “That makes some sense, кукла,” She told her. Some part of her- the part of her she was when she was with Trixie, wanted to take her time. It wasn’t a large part at all, but it was there, and it mattered because it mattered to Trixie.

“Come on,” Trixie mumbled. She took Katya’s hand and pulled her out of the small bathroom. They got their coats, and some stares, but they really didn’t mind. Katya noticed how frazzled Trixie’s hair looked, sort of poofy and frizzy, and how her lipstick had gotten onto her chin. 

They were walking outside, Trixie bumping her shoulder into Katya’s, their hands mingling together for a few seconds before drifting apart again. Katya kept smiling at Trixie, the kind that made her smile too, and Katya really got the sense that they were both dopey idiots. 

She liked the person she was when she was with Trixie. She made her smile more, laugh more, made her feel like she wasn’t nearly as crazy as she felt. 

Katya looked over at Trixie, noticing the way her hair looked when it was tucked inside her jacket, a few strands free, framing her face, and the was she looked in the cold, her cheeks red, the snow around them really only making her look warmer. 

Katya’s boots make a soft clunking sound as they walked, and Trixie’s shoes tapped. Eventually they stopped at a bench, and when a goose got too close Katya yelled at it, telling the creature that she’d fight it if it didn’t ‘back it’s furry keister away from them.’ 

She made Trixie laugh, and she liked that. She liked watching her laugh, she always threw her head back, cackling loudly. Katya liked to think that their laughs sounded nice together. 

“Oh shit,” Trixie said. She sighed as she glanced down at her phone. “Kim doesn’t have her key,” she sighed. They were stopped near a bench, and Trixie sat down, tapping at her phone.

“It’s okay,” Katya said. She was smiling, and she nodded, nudging Trixie’s foot with her own. “You go home, I’ll call you tomorrow, кукла. We can go to dinner soon,” she said.

Trixie leaned into Katya’s shoulder, and she sent a message to Kim. “I promise I won’t keep leaving,” she said, looking sideways.

Katya grinned, “Trixie, go home. I will call you tomorrow and we’ll have dinner,” she said again.

Trixie got her bag and stood up. She was about to walk away when she turned around and kissed Katya one more time, slow and deep, she pressed their lips together, her hands resting on either side of her face. “I’ll see you soon,” she said. 

And just like that, she was walking away, her face all flushed from the cold, laughing as she knew Katya was stunned, and happily so, her smile so big it could light up the distant stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think kiddos? Yeah? Nah? Tell me what you think because I love when people validate my writing. :D Please do, though. I want to know what y'all have to say.


	3. Through the Telephone Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first snow of the season has fallen, and Trixie finds herself being wrapped up in the magic of winter. Warm drinks, Christmas trees, and her Dolly Parton Christmas album. As encapsulating as snow, she finds herself incapsulated inside big coats and the warm voice of Katya drifting through the telephone. 
> 
> Katya finds New York City cold and busy, luckily, she's starting to discover a toasty spot listening to Trixie's comfortingly midwestern accent through the speaker of her phone.

It was that night, while eating pizza on the couch in their Saturday evening tradition, when Kim, turning down the volume of the commercial, looked over at Trixie, her head quirking to the side. 

“Trixie, as your best friend, I’ve decided that we need to have a family meeting,” she said seriously, folding her hands in her lap.

“What?” Trixie asked. She was halfway through a bite of pizza, her words muffled from a full mouth. She looked at Kim, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“We need to have a family meeting- right now,” Kim insisted, putting down her plate. 

Trixie looked like she had finally swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “About what?” She asked, looking at Kim, still obviously confused.

“About what? Are you gonna tell me anything about this woman you’ve been calling? At all hours of the night?” Kim asked. She leaned over, looking extremely concerned, “Is this some sort of booty call?” She asked, her eyes wide.

Trixie almost burst out laughing, but stifled her cackle into something that resembled a terrible cough. “No, Kim, it’s- it’s not a booty call,” she said once she’d recovered. She pushed her hair back over one shoulder, straightening out her hoodie. “It’s a date. I went on a date with her,” Trixie said. She smiled distantly, thinking back to Katya’s pretty white teeth.

“Oh. Well, okay,” Kim said, clearing her throat a little. She smiled slightly, leaning back into the cushions, “What’s her name?” She asked.

“Katya,” Trixie said. She’d started smiling too, messing with a stray string on her leggings. 

“Is she nice?” Kim asked.

“Yeah. She’s really nice,” Trixie said. She looked back up from her leggings, smiling broadly at Kim. 

“You know I’m here if you need someone to talk to about her or anything, right?” Kim asked her, nodding a little.

“Yeah, Kim, of course I do,” Trixie said. She took a breath smiled a little. “She’s Russian,” she told her abruptly.

Kim’s eyes widened, “Is she, like, a spy? Is she here on a mission from the KGB?” She asked her.

Trixie shrugged, but she was grinning. “Maybe, I don’t even know. Here, come here. Let me tell you about her,” she said happily.

Kim scooted closer to Trixie, setting her plate to the side, and the blonde woman started to ramble happily about Katya- how she’d moved to the U.S when she was young, about her weird necklaces and beautiful smile. From what Kim could tell, she was certainly very smitten. 

“Here, we need to celebrate,” Kim said. She walked into the little kitchen, getting out two mugs and a wine bottle. 

“We’ve only gone on one date. I don’t even know if she likes me that much,” Trixie reminded, calling over her shoulder. She took the mugs Kim was handing her, putting them down on the coffee table.

“First of all, you’re Trixie Mattel, my best friend, of course she likes you. And secondly, all that matters is that you had a good time and found somebody you like- it doesn’t matter if it was just one date,” Kim said, sitting down softly. She smiled at Trixie, “From what you’ve said though, it sounds like she likes you a lot.”

Trixie grinned at that, and watched as Kim poured them two sizable mugs of red wine. 

“Cheers,” Trixie said, smiling over at her friend.

“Cheers,” Kim said back, clinking their mugs together. 

Kim turned back up the volume on the television, leaning back into the cushions. Their program was back on, some TLC show about wedding dresses that Trixie liked way too much. 

Trixie woke up to a quiet buzzing sound, grunting softly as she opened her eyes. She was still on the couch, a blue blanket draped around her shoulders. Kim, probably. Trixie reached around for her phone, squinting a little at the screen before holding it to her ear. 

“Hey. Give me one second,” Trixie said tiredly. She got up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, walking over to the back door. Trixie closed it behind her, sitting down on the little chair on the balcony. It was very dark outside, the street lamps on, the one on the corner of the block flickering like it always did. Trixie could hear a distant siren wailing away in the distance.

“Hi. Sorry. Kim was asleep,” Trixie said into the phone. She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand, a breeze blowing lightly at her hair.

“That’s okay, солнышко,” Katya said lightly into the phone. “You sound tired. Did I wake you?” She asked. 

Katya could imagine Trixie sitting somewhere, her hair all poofy and happily tangled, looking tired while she spoke on the phone. She probably looked like an angel, because she always did anyways.

Trixie yawned, “Yeah, but it’s okay. I like talking to you,” she said. 

Katya smiled into the phone, breathing out a soft breath. “I like talking to you too,” she told her. She looked down, wiping away a smudge on her shoe. 

“I’m sorry I had to come rescue Kim earlier,” Trixie said. She laughed lightly into the phone. 

Katya grinned, “That’s okay. You are a good friend,” she said. 

“Where are you right now?” Trixie asked softly. She pulled her legs up, feet cold, wrapping her unoccupied arm around her knees. 

“I’m sitting near the window in my room, trying to ignore Alaska and her girlfriend,” Katya said. “They’ve been at it for over an hour now,” she sighed.

“Wow...-I mean yikes, but also wow,” Trixie said, beginning to grin. 

Katya blew out a breath of smoke out the window. “Yes,” she sighed, “From what I’ve gathered over the past few minutes, Alaska likes calling Sharon some very special names,” she laughed softly, straightening out her legs. 

Trixie laughed into the phone, “Good lord,” she sighed quietly. 

Katya listened for a moment, smiling at a faraway Trixie. She didn’t think that all of her midwestern upbringing had left her. She was warm, comforting in how she talked. 

“When can I see you again?” Trixie asked. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, leaning her head back against the building. 

“Are you free on Tuesday?” Katya asked, smiling, “I’ll take you out for a night on the town,” she said. 

Trixie laughed. Katya’s accent made everything sound a little off kilter, slightly garbled. “Yeah, I’m free Tuesday,” she said happily.

“Sounds like a date, miss Trixie Mattel,” Katya said softly. 

Trixie hummed in response, smiling to the sound of Katya’s grin, floating all the way through the telephone. 

“What time is it?” Trixie asked quietly, looking out off the balcony. 

“It’s a little past midnight,” Katya said. She kicked off her shoes, keeping the phone pressed to her ear. 

Trixie yawned quietly, “I’m usually not so tired,” she said, rubbing her face with her hand. 

“Maybe because you had the best date of your life this morning. I can understand how that would be exhausting,” Katya said, grinning into the phone.

“Oh, that’s it. Why didn’t I think of that?” Trixie retorted jokingly. She was laughing slightly. It reminded Katya of bells, or ambulance sirens. Either one.

“And, you’re probably tired in advance too, you know. Because you’re so excited to see me on Tuesday,” Katya rambled, “Do you like museums? We should go to a museum- an art museum. And then have food after. How does that sound?” She asked.

Trixie grinned, “That sounds perfect,” she said. Trixie didn’t feel a burning desire to go to any art museums, but she had an inkling that she’d probably enjoy going anywhere with Katya. 

“Oh, they’ve stopped now,” Katya said hurriedly.

“Who?” Trixie asked.

“Oh, Alaska and Sharon. I hope they’ve called it a night,” Katya sighed. 

“Oh. Me too,” Trixie said softly, “Sleep is important, and heaven,” she said.

“I can agree with you on that, солнышко,” Katya said.

“What does that one mean?” Trixie asked Katya, her eyes fluttering closed. She listened to the quiet breathing on the line. 

“It means sun,” Katya said back. She was smiling, her eyes crinkled around the edges. 

“I like it- sounds pretty,” Trixie mumbled. She rested her chin on her knee.

Like you, Katya thought. She didn’t say it out loud. Not yet, at least. 

“I’m going to go to sleep and avoid what happened last time,” Trixie laughed tiredly. 

“Alright. Well, sleep well,” Katya said, listening intently through the phone. 

“You too. See you Tuesday?” Trixie asked. She was getting up.

Katya could hear the scrape of a metal chair. “See you Tuesday, Trixie,” she said. 

Katya put her cigarette out in the ashtray, getting undressed and into a long shirt. She felt good about Trixie. Trixie made her feel good. Katya fell asleep happy and hopeful, face buried head-down in her pillow, messy blonde hair strewn like an aura around her head. 

Trixie was wandering around the house the next day, Kim off on an errand, when she felt a buzz from her pocket. 

Katya: Hey. It’s Katya

Trixie smiled down at her phone, beginning to type away at the screen.

Trixie: I figured that part out :-)

Katya: What are you doing right at this moment?

Trixie: I’m wandering around the house. Kim’s out doing God knows what so I’m bored. What about you?

Katya: I’m at work, hiding from my boss

Trixie grinned, shaking her head a little. She flopped down on the couch, crossing her legs as she typed, glancing up now and then to look around the room, at their little pink Christmas tree in the corner, or to her and Kim’s collection of Dolly Parton albums, mounted on the wall.

Trixie: What do you even do anyways? I don’t think I’ve asked yet

Katya: I’m an artist. Kind of. I make art for people and they buy it for magazines. I rent space from this guy and he’s trying to tell me about his marital problems. I said I had to call my grandmother

Trixie: Well, if I’m acting role of Memaw Zamolodchikova don’t you have to call me? :-)

Katya’s name lit up on Trixie’s screen. She pressed the green button, holding it to her ear. 

“Ooh slick. So I’m your grandma now?” Trixie said with a grin. She laughed, “Very sexy.”

“For the moment. You have a broken hip,” Katya said back. 

“How’d I break it?” Trixie asked. Katya thought she sounded much more lively than the night before, Trixie’s laugh more excited than it’d been.

Katya hummed as she thought. “You’re an old woman and you slipped,” she said quickly.

Trixie laughed again. “I slipped? Jeez. That’s lame.”

“Well, it seemed probable so I went with it. Can you come up with anything better?” She laughed softly.

“What if I got caught in the crossfire of some big fight and I got shot? That sounds pretty Russian to me,” Trixie said happily. She ran a hand through her hair, straight this time. She could hear Katya breathing on the other side, “Do you like making art?” She asked.

Katya smiled distantly, “Sort of. Most of the time I do. I get bored easily so I try to stay as busy as I can,” she said.

Trixie nodded, like Katya was next to her, laying on the cheap, yellow couch beside her, rather than in some random building blocks away. 

There was a jingle of keys on Trixie’s end, and she looked over her shoulder, hearing Kim’s voice outside the door. 

“I think Kim’s home, but I’ll talk to you soon,” Trixie said lightly.

“Bye, Barbara,” Katya said in her weird accent, grinning through the line.

“See you, Maury,” Trixie laughed. 

Fame had come over with Kim, and they’d spent the afternoon hanging around the house, watching television together or making paper snowflakes because they both loved Kim too much to say no. 

After a while the winter festivities began, and Trixie helped take the little ornaments out of the bags, leaning down in her gingham skirt to lay them out neatly on the table. 

Kim brought out some cold brownies for them to share. The three of them started to decorate the little pink tree, overloading it with cheesy ornaments of makeup and animals and flowers. To finish it off, Kim had printed a picture of Dolly Parton, and Trixie glued it to a party hat, sitting it rightfully at the top of the tree. 

Her thoughts floated back to Katya, not in a lonesome way, and not so much in longing, but in excitement. She wondered if she was thinking about her too, or if she had a Christmas tree. Trixie made a mental note to get her into the holiday spirit on Tuesday if she wasn’t by then. 

“Hey, loser, look-” Kim said. She tapped Trixie on the shoulder fondly, pointing out the window. It had started to snow, pretty drifts of white magic starting to fall from the clouds. And for a second, it felt like Trixie was a kid again, with all her classmates back in Milwaukee. It was the first snow of winter, everyone out a recess when it had started. They’d all looked up, mouths open to catch a falling snowflake on their tongues- good luck their teacher had said. 

Her mom had picked her up from school early that day, took off the rest of the work day to go and play outside in the snow in the clearing near their little house. Trixie could remember it like it was yesterday, making a dirty snowman because of the dirt on the ground, hands too cold to care with bright, shining faces and red noses and cheeks because of the wind.

Trixie smiled, the heat from her breath fogging up the glass for a moment. Kim just smiled at her, shaking her head a little. She was crazy, but she was Trixie and she loved her. Fame came to look too, holding a little ornament shaped like a tube of lipstick.

“It’s so pretty,” she said. Her and Trixie’s faces reflected in the glass.

“Yeah- magical,” Trixie said certainly. Her eyes were glued to the falling snow for a moment. She was smiling, sighing softly at the sight. Now it was really winter. 

Fame had slept over that night, the three of them finishing a bottle of wine, happily curled up on the couch, half watching television, half playing a board game called Candyland that Kim had insisted on. Trixie hadn’t played it since she was a kid, and hadn’t anticipated how fun it would be while drinking. To Fame’s delight, she’d won, Kim almost crying at the sight. It was safe to say that the two of them had ingested more than enough alcohol for the evening. Trixie, the good mother goose that she was, had put Kim to bed in her room, tucking in Fame on the couch, pulling a blanket up to her chin because she knew it was going to get colder.

A few glasses of wine had given her some confidence, a little pep in her step as she cleaned up, almost sighing happily when she heard the familiar buzz of her phone in her pocket. 

“Katya?” She asked softly, walking to her room.

“Yes. It’s me,” A voice said back. She sounded more crackly than usual, and Trixie flopped back on her bed, smiling distantly at the thought of Katya on the other end of the line. 

“Did you want something?” Trixie asked. She laughed lightly, kicking off her shoes, curling up on her bed, checkered skirt sprawled around. 

Katya shook her head, “No, not really. I just like talking to you. You sound different,” she said. There was a smile hanging at the corners of Katya’s lips, and she opened her window, ducking through to get to the fire escape.

“I mean, I drank some wine and it’s snowing and I’m talking to you. I’m happy,” Trixie said honestly. She was smiling, biting down lightly on her lower lip. Katya’s voice sounded different too, more crackly and smoky, like a fire.

Katya hummed in response. Sticking a cigarette between her lips to light it. She let out a puff on smoke, blonde hair tucked inside her jacket. 

“Uhhg. God, this thing is uncomfortable,” Trixie said. Katya could hear some shifting from her end, and she listened closely, attempting to figure out what was going on. 

“What is?” Katya asked. She held the cigarette between her fingers, looking out to a lit up window across the street.

“This skirt. It’s pretty but totally not lounge material,” Trixie said. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder, leaving the skirt on the ground beside the hamper. She went back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge, crossing her legs. 

“What’s it look like?” Katya asked. She was intrigued. From what she’d seen of Trixie’s wardrobe, it was certainly unique.

“It’s got a gingham print- like really housewifey and long,” Trixie said, leaning over on her elbow to look at the skirt on the ground.

Katya grinned at the thought of Trixie in a long pretty skirt, swishing around while she danced or something.

“What about you, miss Katya, what are you wearing this fine evening?” Trixie asked. She thought Katya could probably feel her smile through the phone. 

Katya looked down at her outfit, stretching out her leg to study her pants. “Well, I’m wearing pants- they’re quilted with some very nice patterns, and I’m wearing a tank top,” she said. 

“Katya, it’s below freezing. Why in the world are you wearing a tank top?” Trixie asked. “I’m going to come find you and bring a jacket or something,” she insisted with a large smile.

“I like the cold. It’s very refreshing, reminds me home,” Katya said.

“You are a very strange woman,” Trixie said with an amused sigh.

Katya let out a laugh. “I swear to you, one of these days I’m going to show up looking like your dream woman- jacket and everything,” she said. 

Trixie just grinned, knowing full well that she had some opinions on this topic that would most certainly be shared at a later date. This was not the time to discuss dream women and how Katya may or may not fit into that precise category.

Katya thought back to their last encounter, in the bathroom of that coffeeshop, and let out a soft breath. She’d only wished she got to see Trixie sooner, instead of an agonizing two days away. She wanted to see her face, not just hear her voice, as lovely as it was. She wanted to see her poofy hair and her crooked smile, to bask in the warmth of her foreign midwestern language. 

Katya yawned into the phone, “My sweet кукла, I think I must sleep. I will talk to you tomorrow,” she said.

“Night, Katya,” Trixie said softly. 

“Goodnight, Barbie,” Katya retorted quietly. 

Trixie heard the click of disconnection, and counted quietly the days until Tuesday. She wanted to see Katya more than anything. And as she slipped beneath the blankets, she thought of Katya’s beaming smile. Memories of her pretty hands lulled her to sleep.


	4. Trixie Likes Alaskan Art (and Snow)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie and Katya find themselves on a second date. Art museums aren't what Trixie calls a great time, but she finds a way to make it better.

Tuesday rolled around pleasantly, but Trixie hadn’t even slightly forgotten. She’d counted days, silently of course, mostly alone in her room, but it was besides the point. The point was, that she was seeing Katya- after work and around dinner time, but it still counted. Trixie had laid out her outfit the night before like a teenager. She didn’t think she’d felt this excited about a girl since high school, when some cute chick had slipped her a note, asking her to meet behind the gym at lunch. Really, it was a little insane. 

Trixie woke up slowly, as she always did, with tangled hair and cold feet, the only motivation to get out of her warm blankets being the steamy shower that would soon grace her presence. She could hear Kim, clunking around in the kitchen. Trixie thought she could hear the familiar sound of the toaster, but it also could have been her imagination. She reached over for her phone, tapping on the screen to make it open. Trixie’s clicked on messages, finding Katya almost immediately. 

Trixie- Hey, excited to see you today!

Trixie’s nose scrunched up, and she deleted the message. Too cliche.

Trixie- Morning, Maury!!

She sighed softly, deleting that one too. Trixie’s pink nails tapped at the screen. Too weird. 

Trixie- I want to see your stupid face <3

Trixie sighed softly and pressed send, letting her phone fall onto bed beside her, not allowing herself any more time to obsess over this girl. Katya would have her attention all evening, her night full of her wheezing laughter and bony elbows. 

The day passed slowly, the coffee shop emptier than usual as hours went by. Turns out that Tuesdays weren’t particularly hot in terms of exhaustion for the New York public. Trixie spent most of her time straightening the glasses, wiping down already clean tables, and talking to Kim, who was hanging out in the back. Violet had the day off, so it was just the two of them, blabbing about Dolly Parton or a cooking show they’d watched recently. The only exciting part was a buzz that came from the pocket of Trixie’s apron.

Katya- I want to see your stupid face too :)

The message was followed by a picture, presumably of Katya, who was wearing a taxidermied raccoon on her head, the little creature’s arms draped down in the direction of her hair.

Trixie- Hot ;)

The moment the clock struck five Trixie was off, waving bye to Kim over her shoulder as she rushed to catch the subway home, holding onto the pole with every other person in the city, squashed together like tiny, salty sardines. 

She got ready quickly too, showering and doing her hair, drawing large wings on both of her eyes with eyeliner, adding soft pink lipstick to her lips. Trixie put on jeans and a thick pink sweater, one with large ruffles down the arms and fake pearls sewn onto the front. She slipped on her heels, pink strappy wedges that were comfortable and warm enough that they didn’t make her want to die already. Trixie’s hair was curled, in large, long waves falling a few inches above her elbows. She grabbed her bag, rushing out the door before she had a chance to sit down. 

Trixie was walking down Fifth Avenue, looking down at her phone to where Katya had said to meet. Before long, she spotted a lone blonde head, still among the moving crowds of people, lingering by the door to the museum. Trixie rushed up to her, feeling her cheeks, flushed by the cold, beginning to warm up. 

Katya was wearing a striped turtleneck, a scarf, with a large, black jacket, embroidered with all sorts of flowers, atop her head housed the horrible beast Trixie had seen the earlier in the picture. Trixie wanted to kiss her. Instead, she tapped her on the shoulder, letting out a quiet “Hey.”

Katya turned around, her expression immediately brightening up, red lips growing into a large grin. She pulled Trixie into a hug, not ever wanting to let go, then realizing that keeping this beautiful woman captive in her arms was probably not the best decision on their second date. 

“What the hell are you wearing on your head?” Trixie asked. It was the first thing she’d said to Katya once they’d started walking through the new exhibit, something about cubism. Trixie didn’t understand much about art, but she liked the colors.

Her and Katya’s footsteps echoed slightly in the room, the two of them stopping to stand in front of a large painting, four triangles covering the canvas. 

“Excuse you, Trixie, but this happens to be my dear friend Cheryl. I’d appreciate it if you were at least slightly cordial,” Katya said softly. She was smiling, leaning over to speak quietly to Trixie, her hand on her back.

“That is a dead animal,” Trixie insisted teasingly. She shifted a little, looking instead at the large painting in front of them. “What’s it trying to tell us?” She asked. Trixie’s head turned to the side as she stared at the large canvas, squinting slightly at the triangles.

“Perhaps it is the absence of the message that makes it so powerful,” Katya said. She smiled at Trixie, “Come, I want to show you another one,” she told her, taking her hand. 

Katya led Trixie to another painting, this one green and tan, looking to be some sort of abstraction of an instrument. 

“What do you think of this one?” Katya asked Trixie quietly.

Trixie squinted at the painting. “I like the colors. But it kind of looks like a sad dog,” she said, pointing at the shape in the center. 

Katya was just smiling, “I hate this section,” she said. She was almost laughing, but not quite.

“Then why in the world are we here?” Trixie asked, starting to grin. She turned and looked at Katya, beginning to shake her head.

“I don’t know- I thought you would enjoy it. All the...empty shapes. Yes. Those,” Katya told her. She was smiling, crossing her arms gently over her chest. “Why don’t we go look at the sculptures,” she insisted.

Trixie grabbed Katya’s hand and they walked up the stairs, finding the exhibit over Greek sculpting. 

“I like this one,” Trixie said. She walked over to a big statue in the corner. It was a man, standing with his weight on one leg, leaning with his hand resting behind his head. Trixie stood beside him, giving Katya her best smolder before copying the pose, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “What do you think?” She asked Katya, wiggling her eyebrows at her. 

Katya was laughing, walking over to move Trixie’s arm a bit. “There- you’re perfect,” she said. She meant it in more ways than one.

Trixie was suddenly acutely aware of how close they both were to one another, Katya’s hand still lightly touching her arm. She was still smiling, and Katya was too, but this time she could see it, not just hear it through the telephone. 

“Thanks,” Trixie said quietly. She moved a piece of Katya’s hair behind her ear, her hand hovering once she was done.

Katya just smiled at Trixie, leaning in to kiss her, softly at first, pressing her lips against hers, hands resting gently on her arms. Before long Trixie’s arms were over Katya’s shoulders, leaning on her to kiss her long and deep, feeling once again like she was floating. She grinned, starting to laugh a little once she realized where they were, in a nice museum, making out in a corner beside a couple of naked marble men. 

Katya started to smile too, only parted when she could hear footsteps approaching. She looked over her shoulder, seeing a doncent enter their hallway. She detangled herself from Trixie, clearing her throat a little. She turned sideways towards the statue, beginning to laugh once she saw Trixie’s face, red cheeks with puffy lips, grinning even more than her.

“I- um, I like this one,” Katya said, rubbing her neck a little. Her hand was soft on Trixie’s back, fingertips just under the hem of her shirt.

“Oh, yeah. Nice...artistry,” Trixie commented with a decisive nod. She watched until the monitor left, starting to laugh. “You make me act like a teenager,” she told Katya certainly. 

Katya grinned, leaning in to kiss the side of Trixie’s mouth, “Is that a good thing?” She asked her.

“Yeah,” Trixie said, smiling. She leaned over and wiped some pink from Katya’s chin, wondering blissfully what kind of mess she must’ve looked like. 

They wandered over near some exhibit about art in Alaska next. There was a separate room, showing a short movie about the process of the artists. 

“Let’s go in here,” Trixie said. She took Katya’s hand, pulling her inside. She was glad to see that it was empty except for them, and they settled down in the back corner, sitting on a bench against the wall, Katya’s hand resting where it had been on Trixie’s back. 

“Птица, I didn’t know you were such a fan of traditional Alaskan art,” Katya said, leaning over to speak softly to Trixie. 

Trixie shrugged, “I have many interests, thank you,” she told her. There was a quirk at the corners of her lips that suggested otherwise. 

Katya rested her hand lightly on Trixie’s, looking sideways at her as the film begins. Trixie had a way of completely encapsulating her, with her smile and her Milwaukee ways, she was completely unlike anyone she’d ever met. 

Trixie glanced down, messing with Katya’s hand in her lap before scooting closer, staring again at the large screen before them. 

Katya leaned over, moving to rest her hand beneath Trixie’s shirt, her fingers just barely touching her warm skin. Trixie inhaled a little, her breathing now prevalent in Katya’s ears. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the film, her, or if Trixie just needed to breathe. Katya watched a woman on the screen begin to knead some clay, her hand still until Trixie moved again, crossing her legs. Katya let her fingers wander a bit, tracing distant shapes onto Trixie’s skin, starting to smile once she’d finally gotten a noise out of her, small but audible, a quiet inhale that made Katya grin. 

Trixie glared playfully at her before looking back to the film. The painting began, and Trixie, listening to the music playing, leaned over to Katya, appearing as if she was about to whisper in her ear. Instead, she kissed her cheek, gentle and soft before making her way silently to the corner of her mouth. She smiled, her hand on Katya’s cheek as she turned to lean into her.

Katya’s arms found Trixie’s waist, hands moving gently under her sweater, leaning to pull her closer as the movie continued, projector whirring over their heads. Her mouth worked against Trixie’s, lightly biting down on her lower lip, prompting another savored noise from Trixie.

Trixie found herself with frizzy hair, hands tangled in Katya’s as they leaned together. This time, it was Katya who pulled away first, looking at Trixie with a soft smile before wiping away a bit of red lipstick from her chin. 

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to have dinner?” She asked softly.

“What?” Trixie said. She looked distracted, in Katya’s thoughts at least, her gaze big, with wide open brown eyes boring into Katya.

“You said we had to wait for dinner, кукла,” Katya said. She smiled a little, pressing her forehead lightly into Trixie’s.

“Do you wanna go get some?” Trixie asked. She’d begun to smile, a gentle laugh escaping her breath.

Katya grinned widely in the low light, nodding a little and kissing Trixie just one more time. She wiped red lipstick off Trixie’s chin with the help of a tissue from her magical bag, thinking she must have had something planned with wearing light pink on her lips as opposed to the fuschia she’d seen earlier that week at breakfast.

Trixie led Katya away from the museum and out into the cool evening, dark enough outside that she started to wonder how long they’d actually spent in that dim room. It was cold, the snow from the past day already slush on the ground, brown from car oil and dirty shoes, new snowflakes beginning to fall on the ground as soon as they stepped outside.

Katya felt like she was in a movie, with Trixie holding onto her hand, tugging her along to get food (she was pretty sure she’d suggested pizza when Trixie had asked her). But the second Trixie looked up, her pretty eyes widening when she saw the drifting snow, everything began in slow motion. Trixie’s grin spread, her eyes crinkling lightly around the corners. And she opened her mouth, tilting her head back against the night sky, catching a snowflake in her mouth. She looked like an angel, with her hair all tucked inside her scarf, cheeks pink from the temperature. All Katya wanted to do was kiss her, and that’s what she did this time, leaning up to Trixie in her wedges, taking her face in her hands, kissing her hard enough to feel the cold on her lips, the bits of snow still falling melting as soon as they touched her warm skin. 

“I thought you said you wanted pizza,” Trixie mumbled, managing to separate her lips from Katya’s. She thought she could feel her eyelashes near her cheek, fluttering open when she started to talk.

Katya didn’t say anything quite yet, just pressed her nose into the side of Trixie’s scarf, humming a little. “I don’t like cheese. And I like you much more than pizza,” she said, her voice slightly muffled.

Trixie smiled at that, her nose scrunching up suddenly as she listened. “You don’t like cheese?” she asked her.

Katya shook her head, “No. Or sauce. They’re both gross,” she said, turning her head to look at Trixie.

“So you don’t like cheese, or tomato sauce…” Trixie sighed, “I mean, that’s a deal breaker for me,” she told her, already beginning to smile.

Katya shook her head sadly, “If only I hadn’t told you, then we could be together,” she said to her, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“I know, and we got along so well,” Trixie insisted with a long exhale. She took Katya’s hand, beginning to lead them towards a donut shop. It was impossible to hate donuts.

Katya let herself laugh, grinning widely at Trixie, looking out on the street, not impossibly crowded, facing a small park, sparse, with only a few trees. Trixie didn’t see anyone sleeping on the ground, so it looked like a good spot. They sat beside one another on a bench, donuts in hand. Trixie got the strawberry one, with pink icing. Katya had a plain glazed donut, and a coffee, resting near her crossed legs. 

“You like snow,” Katya said to her, almost seriously. To Katya’s dismay, the snowflakes had slowed. She wanted to watch Trixie smile like that again. Maybe she could get a picture one day, or a video. 

Trixie nodded, swallowing a bite of donut before talking. “It’s the best thing on earth. Everything about it, the taste, the smell- you know,” she gestured with waving her hand around, “-all fresh and cold. Everything about it,” she told her. They sat under a lamp, yellow glow cast over both of their faces. 

“Do you like winter the best?” Katya asked her.

“Yeah,” Trixie said, “I mean, I like all the seasons, but I like winter best. People are nicest this time of year, with the holidays and Christmas and all,” she said, sighing a little. “I don’t see my family anymore, but I spend time with Kim and Pearl and everyone, so it’s like a family,” she said. “Do you see your family a lot?” she asked Katya gently. 

Katya shook her head, donut wrapper crinkling in her hand as she thought, “Not exactly. They don’t like me very much,” she said with a laugh. She shrugged, “I go to see them once a year, for my father’s birthday. He likes me best, much more than my mother,” she said. 

Trixie nodded, “My stepdad liked me until I started dating girls,” she said, “I think my mom wished I came around more, but she lives with an alcoholic and refuses to divorce him, so I don’t visit.”

Katya nodded at that, her hand moving to rest gently on Trixie’s, watching as someone passed by on a bike, “My mother wanted grandchildren, and she wanted me to marry young. Neither have happened yet, so I doubt she is pleased,” she said. Talking like this was uncommon for Katya. She liked this intimacy with Trixie, how they’d managed to talk honestly and easily with one another. She hadn’t felt the pang of anxiety usually so common when dating someone she liked this much, or hell, even dating someone in general. 

Trixie scooted closer, picking up Katya’s warm coffee to hold in her hands. “I think chosen family is most important,” she said, glancing over to look at the woman beside her.

Katya nodded seriously in agreement, and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment, cold hands joined with half-eaten donuts resting on napkins beside them. 

Once donuts had been finished, napkins tossed away along with the white paper bag, Trixie stood up, still holding Katya’s coffee, complete with a pinkish red smear on the lid. “Come on,” she said to her, a new smile on her lips.

Katya got up, bundled with her jacket, scarf wrapped over her taxidermied hat in her true Russian way. She thought that her and Trixie must look like an odd pair. She liked it, preferred it even. Trixie was magical, she sparkled whenever Katya looked at her.

Trixie hadn’t noticed where they’d walked, her attention mostly occupied with Katya’s hands or her laugh, or how she kept bumping their shoulders together. Trixie was encapsulated with her smile, and her pretty cheekbones and her green eyes. Abruptly, her and Katya were suddenly standing in front of Trixie’s building. 

“This is me,” Trixie said, glancing sideways. She smiled at Katya, standing in front of her. Before she could do anything, she kissed her one more time, “I’ll call you later, Maury,” she said to her. 

Katya just smiled, “Alright, Barbra,” she said. 

Katya was flopped down in bed, yawning loudly, when she heard the familiar buzz of a call from her phone, resting on her pillow. She pressed it to her ear, rolling over with a big grin on her lips.

“Hey,” a voice drifted through, “So I don’t know if you get this a lot, but you’re really pretty,” Trixie said, a light laugh coming through the speaker.

“Trixie, go to bed,” Katya said jokingly. She rolled on her back, beginning to listen as Trixie’s voice filled her phone.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and tell me what you think!! :-)


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